


I'd Burn The World For You

by The_Disaster_Tiefling



Series: Tales of the Flame [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Battle, Blood and Violence, Broken Promises, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fire, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, Near Death, Promises, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-16 12:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14164854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Disaster_Tiefling/pseuds/The_Disaster_Tiefling
Summary: The darkness is taking over, weakness chasing in the wake of the pain, but Molly can’t bow to it yet, no matter how strong the temptation is. He can’t leave Caleb with that broken promise and he almost laughs, because who knew that Mollymauk Tealeaf would find someone that he’s willing to die for in the form of a beautiful, broken human.How far would you go to protect those precious to you? For Mollymauk, it's simple, his life for the one he loves. For Caleb... the world will burn.





	1. Chapter 1

   Caleb winced as he was flung back against the wall of the cave, certain that he had just heard something in his side make an ominous sounding crack as he hit the rocks sideways, a strangled gasp escaping as another blow pressed him into the rock, a sharp edge slicing into his cheek and drawing blood. The Gnoll that had hold him was cackling in his ear, spit showering the back of his neck and he tried to lurch away, only to feel claws pressing through the already torn material of his coat as the creature matched his movement, tightening its grip. He could feel blood trickling down his cheek now, joined by moisture pooling around the sharp bite of the claws digging into his skin and he closed his eyes as defeat washed over him. _I’m getting out of this one,_ the realisation settled over him like a lead weight and he swallowed thickly.

    In the past he might not have cared. Hell, there were times when he might well have welcomed the escape from his past, from his memories. But not now, and his eyes flew open as he heard one of the reasons for that change shrieking his name, Nott’s shrill cry carrying easily over the sounds of battle.

“CALEB!”

“Stay back!” In his panic he forgot about the Gnoll holding him prisoner, and the feeling of defeat that had gripped him as he jerked his head back, frantically searching for the Goblin. She couldn’t get involved in this, he had come too close to losing her during their last encounter with Gnolls and he couldn’t go through that again. “STAY BA….!” His desperate shout became a sharp yelp as he slammed face first into the wall once more, stars dancing in front of his eyes from the force of the blow, before he felt sharp teeth latching onto his shoulder and the world became a white blur of pain as he screamed. Yet even as the world narrowed, all he could think about was making sure that Nott was safe and drawing on a strength he wasn’t aware he possessed he fumbled in his sleeves for the small dagger that Molly had taken to insisting that he carry, fingers trembling with effort as he grasped the hilt. One hit, he just had to get one hit…just enough to let him shout at her to stay away one more time.

_Please…._

     He’s not sure who he’s pleading with. He doesn’t have a God, or a patron like Jester. There isn’t much he believes in… _nein, that wasn’t true. Not anymore at least._ He believed in them. He believed in Fjord and Beau whose shouting he can hear in the distance, the two of them having being cut off in the original attack and he can easily imagine the path of destruction they’re creating to get back to them. He can’t hear Yasha, which is unsurprising as even in battle she tends to be quiet, but he knows with a certainty that surprises him that she will be fighting, maybe with Jester, whose voice he can make out vaguely further back in the room, her giggling out of place in the chaos and yet the familiarity of it soothes him. He believes in Nott who is probably still running towards him, even though she has more to fear than the rest of them and then there’s…

    There’s a feral snarl from somewhere nearby, words that he can’t fully understand being whispered in a voice that can only be taken as threatening and then the pressure against his back and the teeth in his shoulder are gone. He should be relieved, but the teeth have torn bloody furrows over his shoulder as they were removed and then there’s the clash of metal on flesh behind him, something warm and moist splattering onto his skin and he shudders, recoiling and curling closer to the wall as the Gnoll lets out a pained howl. He’s grown braver during their journey, but he can’t bring himself to turn around right now even as he hears something heavy hitting the ground, and its not completely due to the pain and exhaustion gripping him right now.

    It doesn’t stop him from lashing out with the dagger that he’d almost forgotten he had grasped in his hand when a warm hand settles on his uninjured shoulder. It’s a wild swing, nothing like the graceful movements that Molly has been trying to drill into his head and it turns out that’s a good thing, as he hears whatever’s behind him moving just before the hand vanishes from his shoulder, only to reappear against his rest, gently pushing the blade aside. “Woah there…” _Molly,_ relief hits him in a way at the soft voice, it’s missing its usual lilt but he’s already relaxing even before the Tiefling adds soothingly. “It’s just me.” Caleb almost wants to laugh at that, ‘just me’ doesn’t come close to describing what Molly is, but he doesn’t have the energy, blinking as he lets Molly take the dagger from him before he’s guided down to the floor.

“Molly…”

     He doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before Nott reaches them, trembling and frantic as she crouches beside Caleb, reaching out before shying away as she takes in the extent of his injuries and he tries to smile for her, for them, but he doesn’t have it in him to make it work. He hurts, exhaustion doing little to dull the edge and he can feel himself slumping backwards against the wall as his gaze finally wonders beyond the pair to land on the Gnoll that had been holding him prisoner. It’s dead, the dull thud making sense now and he swallows convulsively as he takes in the vicious wounds that claimed his life, thinking back to the feral snarl before his gaze flickers to Molly. The Tiefling is on edge, tail swishing behind him as he glances between Caleb and the sounds of fighting that are drawing a little too close for comfort, but when he meets Caleb’s gaze, his expression softens and its impossible for Caleb to fear him, although not for the first time he’s glad that the Tiefling is on his side.

“Caleb…” Nott has finally grasped his sleeve, tugging lightly and staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes and Caleb lets his head loll towards her, not quite having the energy to hold it properly and his lips quirk again.

“I’m all right, little one.” Molly snorts at his reply and mutters something under his breath. It’s in Infernal so Caleb can’t interpret it, but he has a feeling that its something along the lines of ‘idiot’ but crasser. It doesn’t help that Nott is staring at him, unconvinced by his words and he’s left to wonder when he lost the ability to fool those around him…if he’d ever had. “Fine… I will be all right.” If he doesn’t have to fight again, and if they can either get out of here or reach Jester, both being preferable.

“Yes, he will.” Mollymauk’s meets his gaze again and holds it, and there’s no sign of the joking, lilting Tiefling to be found. It’s a promise, not just to the worried looking Nott but to Caleb, and after so long not believing in anything it’s shocking to realise that he trusts those words immediately, a tension that he hadn’t been aware of easing in his chest.

He should’ve known better…

    The sounds of fighting that had been drawing closer to the side cave where they had been forced to retreat during the original ambush spill into the cave, and somewhere over it, they hear Jester’s scream. It’s pained and anguished and cut short, and Molly is immediately as taut as a bowstring again, moving so that he’s covering Caleb and Nott as his attention turns to the entrance, back rigid as Jester’s scream is followed by frantic shouts and increased movement. However, more worrying is the heavy shuffling footsteps heading in their direction and Caleb feels his breath catch as a large, snout comes into view. It’s not just the size that has him shrinking back, but the sight of the heavy armour its wearing as the Gnoll moves further into the cave, dragging a large Claymore so that its tip scraped along the ground, the shrill noise doing little for the pounding that’s started behind his eyes. He’s also realised too late, that shrinking in on himself is a bad idea as pain lances through him, and he gasps, a soft sound that should be lost in the sounds of battle, but its like the Gnoll was just waiting for the sound as dark eyes dart towards him, and it grins, hungry and triumphant all at once.

   The urge to flee is overwhelming, but he doubts his ability to get to his feet let alone move, but he forgets all about it when Molly growls under his breath, dark and angry, Infernal tinging the sound before he glances back at Caleb. The crimson eyes are ablaze, fury and some deeper, darker emotion playing through them and when he speaks, his voice is a low hiss. “Stay here.” It’s an order, one that Caleb has no intention of disobeying as there is something terrifying about this version of Molly, although even now he doesn’t fear the Tiefling, giving a short, jerky nod before Molly turns back to face the new danger, stalking forward with his tail lashing behind him. He’s a bold figure, but Caleb can’t appreciate the sight as tiny hands disappear from his sleeve as Nott moves to stand in front of him, her short sword appearing as she straightens.

“Nott…” _Don’t…_ He reaches for her, wanting…needing to protect her, but she nimbly avoided his clumsy attempt before offering him a quivering smile over her shoulder, darting forward until she’s just behind Molly, her soft words ringing in Caleb’s ears.

“It’s my turn to protect you.”

_No…_

****

    It’s dangerous to go into a battle angry, Mollymauk knows this, has learnt through far too many bar fights and Carnival brawls where he’s let his temper get the better of him before he’d learnt to mask it all beneath good humour. But this is different. The fury dancing just beneath his skin is different, darker and all-consuming. It’d first roared to life when he’d heard Nott screaming Caleb’s name, and for a terrifying, breathless moment he’d thought that he was going to turn and see the human on the ground. It had been better and worse, to see that he was still upright but pinned. Any relief he might have felt vanishing when Caleb had tried to shout a warning to the goblin, rather than worrying about himself and the pained yelp that had followed had triggered something in him, a darkness that had consumed him as he’d swiftly dealt with the two Gnolls he’d been engaged with and charged towards Caleb.

_Mine._

    He hadn’t missed the fact that Caleb was still trying to fight, that he was reaching for the dagger that he had argued against carrying, pride curling somewhere beneath the fury, but he knew that it wouldn’t be enough. And even if it is, Molly wants to hurt the Gnoll who’s dared to touch the wizard. The Gnoll who is responsible for spilling his partner’s blood and he doesn’t wait to see what Caleb will do, barely aware that Nott is taking aim at another Gnoll behind him as he launches himself forward, teeth bared.

“You should never have touched him.” Molly whispers in Infernal as he comes up behind the Gnoll, knowing that he looked and sounded like the devil child many thought Tieflings to be, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting to Caleb and destroying the Gnoll in front of him. “He’s mine.” His anger lends him strength and he hauls the Gnoll away from the wizard, faltering for a second as he realises he’s unintentionally caused more damage, the creature’s teeth leaving bloody furrows in their wake and it takes everything he has to drag his attention away from Caleb as the human slumps back against the wall.

    He’s merciless as he descends on the Gnoll, nimbly avoiding a wild blow that could have opened up his side if it connected and bring both swords down in a sharp v shape on the Gnoll’s chest. It drags a howl of pain from the creature, letting him see the blood staining the yellowed fangs. Caleb’s blood. He’s snarling again. _Mine. MINE. MINE!_ The feeling is reaching a crescendo in his chest and he’s a whirling dervish, dancing between dangerous claws, as he metes out punishment, and its only the need to check on Caleb that finally overwhelms his anger, leading him to end the fight in an abrupt twist of his dancing blades, showering himself and the space around them with warm blood before the Gnoll falls to the ground.

   The anger had subsided briefly when he’d moved to Caleb, impressed with his partner’s attempt to strike out and softening under the unbridled relief visible on Caleb’s face when he realised who was touching him. It’s an expression he’d once thought no one would ever wear because of him. It’s hard to look at Caleb, to see the damage that he hadn’t been able to stop, the pain and exhaustion that the human can’t hide and harder even to hear him trying to pass it off as nothing just to comfort Nott, even though he knows that’s just how his partner is.  Still, Caleb was alive and as soon as they could get him patched up they’d be able to put this all behind them. _At least until the next time,_ a smaller, cynical part of his mind pointed out, adding up all the times that Caleb wound up in trouble, any maybe his thoughts had cursed them, because he had just promised that Caleb was going to be okay when things went wrong.

    Hearing the rest of their party in trouble was enough to fan the flames of his temper, but it was seeing the fear in Caleb’s face that had it becoming an inferno, spilling forth into a growl as he’d turn to face the newest threat. He’s not so far gone that he doesn’t realise how much trouble they’re in. Yes, they’ve all grown since their last encounter with Gnolls like this, but they’re split up at the moment, unsure of the status of the rest of the group and Caleb…his gaze flickers back to the human, lingering on the wounds that he could see, knowing that there were probably more hidden beneath the bloody, tattered coat. _Caleb needs to get out of here,_ the realisation slides in like ice amongst the flames of his temper and it bleeds into his voice as he orders Caleb to stay where he is as Molly moves forward.

    He’s vaguely aware of Nott following, and of her words to Caleb and part of him wants to snap at her to stay back and not just because he’d heard the choked plea in Caleb’s voice. With the anger thrumming through his veins, Infernal dancing on the tip of his tongue, he’s not in any stare to be responsible for someone else, but at the same time he can’t stop her. Caleb is precious to her too, and as his eyes dart over the new Gnoll, eyeing the heavy armour and the claymore with trepidation, he admits to himself at least that he’s going to need the help. It doesn’t make it easier to hear her move into position behind him, and to know that they’re doing to Caleb the one thing his partner most of all, watching others fighting to protect him. For someone who claims to be a coward, he hated being protected at the cost of others.

“Stay behind me as much as you can,” he settles for hissing at her, only just remembering not to use Infernal and still hearing it lingering his words. He doesn’t know if she replies because with a screech of metal that has him flinching, the armour Gnoll charges, swinging the two-handed sword towards him with an ease that would terrify most people. However, Molly isn’t most people and with the fury in his veins and Caleb behind him, he can’t afford to hesitate and thankfully the Gnoll isn’t the fasted combatant and the Tiefling dances out of range with ease, eyes narrowed as the heavy blade whistles through the air a little too close for comfort. He doesn’t want to get caught by that blade, he knows that much, which means he needs to play this carefully and as he sees Nott lining her crossbow up to take a shot he falls back a few steps to cast vicious mockery.

    The crossbow bolt slides off the armoured helm, drawing the Gnoll’s attention and allowing the curse to take hold and as the creature turns to lumber towards the goblin, Molly strikes. They need to end this quickly, and yet he can’t forget Caleb’s pain and fear, another snarl tearing itself loose and his blow shifts, aiming to cause pain rather than damage. He wants to carve his partner’s pain and fear from the furred hide. He wants to see those dark eyes flooded with terror before he ends this, even though the more rational part of his mind is screaming at him to end this now. One blade skitters off the armour, but the other finds a narrow gap and slides in, biting into flesh and lips curling up into a smirk he twists the blade, making the Gnoll howl in pain. It also seems to light a fire in the Gnoll, and suddenly Molly finds himself having to fall back, feeling the tip drawing a line across his chest as he’s a hair to slow and he curses under his breath.

_Foolish…_

    Nott is shouting, trying to draw attention to herself in a way that must be giving Caleb a heart attack, but he can’t spare either of them a glance as the Gnoll is attacking in earnest now, and it’s taking everything he has to parry each strike, feeling blood seeping down his chest. His fury is fading a little now, giving way to a cold feeling of dread and he has a feeling that if he had his cards spread out in front of him they would be screaming a warning at him. _This is bad, this is very bad…_ another line of pain is drawn across his arm, the blow hard enough to make him stumble and he has a feeling he limb will be black and blue by tomorrow, if he’s still alive by then…. _No, he can’t afford to think like that_ , and his eyes narrow at the Gnoll and he lashes out, blades skittering off the armour with little effect.

“I’m going…” He begins in Infernal, slipping out of range of the next blow, eyes flicking over the armoured figure, searching for a weakness he can exploit. However, he doesn’t get to finish because Nott is shouting again, only this time there’s a fresh note of fear in her voice, one that’s echoed from behind him before ice shoots past his ear. For a moment he thinks its missed as it bypasses his opponent, but then he hears Nott cheering and he can’t stop himself from glancing across just in time to see the spell slam into the middle of a group of three Gnolls that are trying to force their way through the narrow entrance. The sudden attack seems to give them pause, before three sets of eyes move and settle on the wizard behind him and the foreboding he’d felt before intensifies, reaching a crescendo as the armoured Gnoll grins at him and cackles before barking something to the other Gnolls.

    The Gnolls are yipping and howling now, the baying of hounds on the hunt and Molly freezes as he watches them lunge through the opening, the middle one a little slower than the others, brushing Nott aside as though she’s nothing more than a fly. He spares half a second to check that she’s okay, noting the way she staggers back to her feet, clutching the wall for support with a distant part of his mind, before his eyes dart back to the others. He thinks maybe they’ll come for him, mobbing him to help the armoured Gnoll, but its almost like he doesn’t exist, their attention riveted instead on where he knows Caleb is and the foreboding becomes a piercing dread that threatens to steal his breath away. _Caleb…_

    He doesn’t have time to think about it, whirling with the intention of intercepting the attack, not caring that he’s already injured or that he’s going to be outnumbered. All that matters is stopping them from reaching Caleb, because even if he’s recovered enough to use magic, there’s no way he can hold off three of them. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Nott charging forward, whatever injuries she’s sporting forgotten in favour of reaching Caleb and she’s nearly abreast with him when he feels the ripple in the air behind him.

    Too late he realises that it’s all been a feint, that the Gnoll he’d been fighting had spotted his focus on keeping the fight away from Caleb and used that against him. There was no time to do anything but push Nott out of reach, because deep down he believes that Caleb could recover from his loss, but he knows that losing the tiny goblin would destroy the other man and he can’t let that happen. He’s still moving, trying to get into a position to block the blow, lifting his twin swords to parry, but its too late and there’s no way for him to stop the sharp cry that’s drawn from his lips as the deadly blade slides home. Fire of a different sort engulfs his side and his knees are caving before the pain has fully registered, the world becoming a blur of noise as his vision turns white.

Somewhere over the pain he can hear the Gnoll’s heavy steps coming towards him, deafening even with the sound of Nott desperately shouting out as she tries to distract the Gnolls that he can still hear dashing towards Caleb. However, his attention is caught by another voice, the one that has come to mean home and family, as it rises behind him in a shrill cry that tugs at his heartstrings. He’s heard Caleb frightened before. He’s seen him enraged and caught in maelstrom of memories and emotions, but he’s never heard him like this…so raw, so fragile as though he’s made of glass and shattering to pieces.

“MOLLY!”

     Molly wants to respond. He needs to respond, because somewhere through the pain and the shadows creeping in, he realises that he’s the reason Caleb sounds like that. However, his voice won’t work, the words caught somewhere between that realisation and the sickening fire spreading up his side, and helplessness washed over him. He’d promised that Caleb was going to be okay, and with that single cry he knew that he’d failed, that even if Nott and Caleb found a way out of this and his heart twisted as the realist in him knew just how unlikely that was, Caleb wasn’t going to come back from this unscathed. His fingers clenched, and with a start he realised that he’d managed to hold onto one of his swords and trembling he pulled the blade closer. It was foolishness. Utter foolishness, after all what could he do in this state? His body felt heavy, his mind sluggish…but he had promised, and Caleb who still struggled to trust any of them had believed him.

The darkness is taking over, weakness chasing in the wake of the pain, but Molly can’t bow to it yet, no matter how strong the temptation is. He can’t leave Caleb with that broken promise and he almost laughs, because who knew that Mollymauk Tealeaf would find someone that he’s willing to die for in the form of a beautiful, broken human. _Caleb._ The name is a talisman, and it has been for a while, a light to guide him back when the past and the darkness threaten to become too much, and he clings to it now as he lifts his head, barely able to make out the lumbering form of the armoured Gnoll looming above him.

“Mine…” He manages to force out in a broken mix of Infernal and Common, as with a last desperate effort he thrusts upwards. The only reason he knows his blade hit home is because of the bellowed growl above him, but its lost as his chest bursts open, his sword clattering forgotten to the floor as he claws at his front, trying to hold himself together. There’s blood on his hands, his mouth trapped open in a soundless scream and then he’s falling, toppling to the side, and as his awareness slips away from him all he can do is apologise as the flames of hell rise up to engulf him.

_Caleb, I’m sorry…_

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

   It’s hard to breathe. It’s harder still to focus, and Caleb loses track of the battle for a few seconds, the noises bleeding into one in the throbbing that’s settled in behind his eyes. He hurts and wants nothing more than to go to sleep and stay that way until everything is healed and it no longer feels like he’s inhaling burning coals with each breath.  His mind wanders, darting from thought to thought, each one darting away like quicksilver before he can grasp it and he’s slumping, falling back against the world as his mind descends into grey mist.

    There’s a howl of pain somewhere nearby and it penetrates the fog, a sudden surge of terror giving him the strength to sit up as he remembers where they were. Who he was with. He blinks, vision blurring around the edges, but he focuses just in time to see the armoured Gnoll’s blade drawing a line across Molly’s chest, blood bubbling up in its wake and whilst the Tiefling doesn’t cry out, his expression tightens, and he mutters something under his breath.

_Molly…_

    Caleb is already trying to get to his feet, his body reluctant to obey his efforts when he hears Nott shouting. He knows how quiet she can be when she chooses, how easy it is for her to melt away into the background even in middle of a battle and he knows that the shrill shout is deliberate even before he looks towards her, watching as she dances up and down, waving her weapons and trying to attract attention. Trying to be a distraction and Caleb doubles his efforts to try and get to his feet, because she shouldn’t be out there, she shouldn’t be fighting without him there to protect her, and he manages to rise to one knee, sheer stubbornness letting him get that far as pain lances through his side, making his vision waver once more. _Nott…_

     He doesn’t know where to look. Nott needs him, but Molly…his gaze flickers back to his partner just in time too see Molly stumbling back under the force of another blow, blood welling under a gash in the sleeve of the colourful coat. _No, not him…_ The injury seems to stun the Tiefling for a moment, but then he’s spring forward, attacking with a fury that Caleb rarely sees from him but its not enough, the armour is well-worn but also well-tended too and the scimitars slide off the armour without effect, and Molly’s tail lashes violently. “I’m going…” Caleb’s not the target of the snarled Infernal and he has no idea what’s being said, but its enough to send a shiver down his back, but its nothing compared to the ice that fills his veins when Nott cries out again. Louder this time and frightened, and its enough to get him lurching onto his feet, although he immediately sways and threatens to fall, and he has to clutch the wall to brace himself, magic stirring as he spots the threat, more Gnolls charging into the cave and much too close to Nott.

“NOTT!” The magic is slow to respond, pain and exhaustion slowing his movements. Fire would be better, but as usual there’s a tremor at the thought of the flames and he shakes his head, ice gathering around his hand instead. _Protect them. I must protect them._ He’s biting his lip now, using the pain to keep himself focused as his vision wavers, dark spots dancing in front of his eyes and when he releases the spell he can barely see what he’s aiming at.

    He only knows that the spell has hit because Nott cheers loudly, one of the Gnolls making a pained yelping noise before he hears ice splintering and he falls back against the wall, breathing heavily and blinking, trying to clear his vision. When the cave comes back into focus, he can see that the Gnolls are hesitating, apparently brought up short by his attack and Nott is slipping back, crossbow raised and aimed at them. It lets him risk a glance towards Molly, just as the armoured Gnoll barks something, the sound echoing through the chamber and Caleb freezes, the sound awakening fear in the pit of his stomach which intensifies as the other Gnolls start to yip and howl. It’s the sound of hounds on the hunt, and for a moment he’s a million miles away, back in a different lifetime as he flees into the forest with the voices of dogs and men raised in unison behind him.

_Not again…_

     But it’s different, he blinks, terror surging through him as he realises that the Gnolls have focused on him, charging towards him, teeth bared. Nott has been knocked aside in the rush, but he can see her springing back to her feet and charging towards him, terror written across her face and he wants to shout at her to stop, to stay back, but his voice won’t work. Past and present are merging, pain and exhaustion locking him in place as he hears paws pounding over the rock towards him. He might have been lost then, but there’s movement, a familiar flash of colour and he realises that Molly is charging forwards too and his breath catches at the expression on the Tiefling’s face. It’s terror, and desperation and love, and a growing, terrible realisation. _Too late,_ is the feeling written into expression and Caleb swallows, fingers twitching. He has magic, he can fight…but he knows that it won’t be enough, and he wants to look away, to close his eyes and stave off the end just a few seconds longer.

       Before he can give into the temptation though, the armoured Gnoll has moved, striking with a speed that belies its size and the heft of its weapon and his mouth falls open in a wordless scream as he watches Molly shoving Nott aside seconds before the deadly blade strikes home. The sharp cry that follows will haunt him for a long time, and the world seems to stand still as Molly falls to his knees, the blade ripping free with the movement, blood…his partner’s blood spilling onto the ground, and its so much…to much…and he’s barely aware of Nott frantically shouting and screaming in the background, trying to divert attention from the two of them, trying to do something…but he can’t tear his gaze away from the crumpled form of the Tiefling, eyes wide as he watches the blood seeping into his coat and pooling beside him. It’s too much…

_Not him…_

“MOLLY!” The scream is torn from him, from a deep part of him that he’d thought lost long ago, in another place, with other lives stolen from him. It hurts, raw and ragged with emotions that he can’t put a name to, let alone try to understand them. All he knows is that Molly’s down, that he’s hurt because of him… _it’s my fault…._ and that he’s about to lose the one thing that makes sense.

    The other Gnolls are nearly on him now. Nott is screaming. But he only has eyes for Molly, for the Tiefling who at his voice is struggling to life the blade he has managed to cling to, even though he lacks the strength to move or lift his head, the armoured Gnoll looming over him. “Mine…” It’s a whisper of sound, half-Infernal, half-common and it ignites something in Caleb’s chest as Molly strikes, forcing the blade home, drawing a bellowed growl from the creature. But the noise is lost in Molly’s screams as it lashes out, tearing his chest open as he falls completely, and Caleb is numb, vision filled with lavender and crimson, something dark bubbling up in his chest as he staggers forward with his hand held out.

_Molly…_

    There is no spell. No arcane words spilling from his lips. The magic is raw and wild much as it had been back then, but this time it is darker, vengeful as flames burst into life around his fingers, spreading until his hand is completely engulfed. Somewhere, in the back of his mind he fears the flames, but his eyes are on Molly’s slumped form and the last tendril of control vanishes as he unleashes the flames, sending them surging towards the Gnolls. _Kill. Destroy. Hurt._ Thoughts he had promised he would never feel again, the control he had clung to for so long, it all swirls into a maelstrom around him and he screams.

He’s not alone.

    He can hear the Gnolls shrieking and howling as the flames engulf them, burning them to ash, their voices lost to the roaring flames and somewhere beyond that he can hear someone shrieking his name. He has just enough presence of mind to keep the flames away from them, and away from the crumpled heap that is his partner, but his mind is retreating, spiralling in on itself, as a single thought takes hold, the flames leaping higher in response as he shatters completely.

_I lost him…_

_I lost Molly…_

****

_The fates are teasing him._

_Molly snarls as the cards dance around him, Infernal coating his tongue as he snatches for the cards, trying to grasp the fleeting messages they are showing him. He knows the images, he knows all of them, has drawn them a thousand different times, in a thousand different patterns. Past. Present. Future. He knows them all, but as cruel as they can be at time, he’s never hated them as much as he does right as he sees the images that swirl in front of him. Taunting him as they speak of a future he’d started to let himself dream about, something he had denied himself for a long time. Of a family he had found in the strangest place but had come to treasure above everything else._

_They spoke of new beginnings._

_They spoke of life._

_They spoke of Caleb._

_And he screams as the cards are engulfed in flames._

*

   Molly had been convinced that he was dead. In fact, he was sure that he must be dead, remembering the sickening pain of the blade sliding home and the burning sting of the claws that had rent his chest before the world had faded away. _I died…_ It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He had never feared death, had embraced it as a part of life and lived to the fullest, knowing that it was there waiting, but refusing to fear it. And yet… he remembers the dancing cards. He thinks about Caleb’s terrible, broken scream and he realises that at some point life…his life, had become something to fight for, to want to live for and grief welled up at the realisation that he had realised it too late.

_Caleb, I’m so sorry…_

    There was so much that he should’ve done, so many words that he should have said and now it was too late. And yet…the numbness, the certainty that he was dead was beginning to seep away as he closed his eyes against those thoughts, a stinging sensation in his eyes. It was slow, much like the warmth that creeps back when winter begins to give way to spring, but feeling is creeping back into his limbs. Next, he becomes aware of something cool and solid against his lips, something…fingers… he realises a second later, massaging at his throat, coaxing something cool and gloopy down his throat, and he can feel it going down, feeling chasing on its wake. As it seeps further and further into his body, consciousness creeps closer, thoughts stirring beneath the surface and now he’s not so sure that he is dead, because it hurts.

No, it burns.

     A deep sickening fire that is slowly being blanketed by the same seeping coolness that trickled down his throat. _A healing potion,_ his slowly wakening mind tells him, and he can feel it working, but its slow, barely keeping the flickering tongues of pain at bay and he moans as he tries to curl in on himself to hide from the pain, only to realise too late that it’s a terrible idea. Everything ignites at once, and he’s shouting, distantly aware of how raw and ragged his voice is, as though he had been screaming…and he blinks, remembering doing just that as he struggled to reach Caleb. _Caleb…_ All thoughts of staying still disappear and he doesn’t need the hand that clamps down on his mouth a moment later to cut of his shout, silencing himself as it dawns on him that if he’s alive then Caleb must be close. _He has to be_ … and Molly doesn’t want to hear that horrible, broken voice again and he clamps down on his voice, even as he fights to open his eyes, feeling movement beside him.

“Caleb…” It creeps out, little more than a whisper of sound even when the hand that had settle over his mouth disappears and he blinks at the loss of contact and then blinks again to try and clear his vision, disappointment and fear washing over him when rather than the wizard he finds Beau knelt beside him. In fact, as he moves, tilting his head to study her, he realises that his head was nestled in her lap and that the hand that hadn’t been trying to silence him was holding an empty potion bottle, which explained the coolness he’d felt, and the fact that he can feel skin knitting itself back together with each breath. It’s clearly one of the good potions, but even now he knows it’s not going to be enough, the coolness that had been chasing the pain from his limbs is slowly and fading away, and it still hurts. But he’s alive and for now he’s more than happy to take that….

    It’s hard to focus on anything but the pain still lingering, but he blinks again before focusing on Beau. She’s seen better days, a nasty looking cut on her temple is dyeing the side of her face crimson whilst he can see some spectacular bruises already forming around the other eye, and her clothes are tattered and bloody, other wounds peeping out. Clearly their healing has been stretched thin, otherwise he’s sure that Jester or Yasha would already have sat on her and tended the injuries and he swallows, eyes flicking towards the potion, old guilt bubbling up. However, he knows better than anyone that injuries can heal, but once someone is gone… he shivers, hissing at it jostles his wounds and curling against Beau, and its now as he turns towards her, pressing close that he realises her clothing is charred in places, smoke tickling his sensitive nose and he pulls back, something akin to dread pooling in the pit of his stomach as he vaguely remembers the flames that had engulfed him when he’d fallen.

“What happened…?”

“Caleb…” Beau mutters as though it explains everything and maybe it does, because she’s barely finished saying the wizard’s name before Molly’s head is up and moving, searching for the other human, for his human and…

_Oh no…_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the overwhelming response to this fic!! It has been a wonderful welcome to the fandom <3\. Anyway my obsession for these two is growing by the day, and I already have two other fics in the works and ideas for me (save me...)


	3. Chapter 3

Caleb is burning.

     The flames have taken root somewhere far beneath his skin, searing deeper with each ragged breath he manages to take, finding fuel in the maelstrom of emotions churning in his chest and burning brighter with each second threatening to turn him to ash from the inside. It hurts. It burns. In some small, distant part of his mind he knows that he should release them, that he should let the flames die away to ashes and free himself from their embrace before it’s too late. However, the burning is a familiar pain, one that he has felt too many times, a sensation that he usually flees from but right now he finds himself embracing it. He embraces the burning, the flames, the pain. Because whilst it hurts and burns, it’s more bearable than the terrible, creeping awareness that is taking hold of his mind, echoed in the ice that is spreading through his heart, causing each breath to catch in his chest.

_Molly is gone…_

    He has enough awareness to know that the Gnolls are gone, consumed by his fire, their screams having long since given way to a silence broken only by the crackling of his flames. Just as he knows that Nott is still near the entrance, alternating between screaming for him to stop and come back to her and shouting for help, still trying to get back to his side but held at bay by his flames. He won’t hurt her, can’t hurt her and the flames know that, but he won’t let her get closer either. He’s burning and the world around him is burning too, the flames scarring the rock around him and he knows that he should care about that. It’s what he’s fear for so long, memories of another time, another wild blaze trying to rise up as he closes his eyes against them and the world. It’s burning, and he should be stopping it, he can even imagine Molly’s lips on his forehead as a gentle voice tries to ease him out of the grip of the memories and dark thoughts, bringing him back to the present, but that’s gone now. Molly’s gone and whilst Caleb knows that he shouldn’t let the world burn, he finds himself wanting to turn it all to ashes, willing the flames to tear it all apart.

He doesn’t want a world without Molly.

_I lost him…_

_Molly…_

****

   Molly has seen Caleb broken before. Hell, the first step on the rocky path to their current relationship had been when the wizard had fallen to pieces after using his flames and he’s held Caleb together through too many nightmares and flashbacks to think that’s changed. However, as bad as though times have been, it’s nothing compared to the sight that greets his gaze when it falls on Caleb.

_Oh no…_

    He’s seen Caleb broken before, more times than he’s cared to and this isn’t broken. This isn’t him hurting and raw from a past that won’t remove its claw, or even shaken and frighten from a fight that’s gone wrong and cut a little too close to home. This is a Caleb that’s cracked and shattered and lost himself in the process. He’s on his knees, listening to the side and looking at him Molly’s not sure how the human is still upright, and his first instinct is to go to him, to rush to his side and pull him close. To kiss him and draw him back into the present, away from whatever darkness has consumed him. He even tries to move, but his legs aren’t quite ready to obey him yet and Beau’s arms shift, wrapping around him and holding him in place and whilst he fights her briefly, it’s pitifully easy for her to hold onto him. He growls at her half-heartedly, but she’s unrepentant and as his gaze returns to Caleb he realises that it’s probably a good thing that she stopped him.

Because Caleb is burning…

     The ground around Caleb is scorched and blackened, scarred deeply and the flames are still there, dancing wildly in the air around Caleb. Molly knows Caleb’s flames, he’s taken the time to study them even in the heat of battle, not that it’s hard, because there’s something about Caleb when he uses his magic that just draws the eye, a spotlight that just for a moment allows the world to see the man that is all too lost under the image Caleb presents to the rest of the world. It’s a magic that’s far beyond him and having seen the fear in his partner’s eyes he’s glad of it, but he’s learnt to recognise the subtle differences in the flames. He can tell when Caleb is calm and in control, the flames dancing to his tune, tamed and beautiful as they reflect in Caleb’s eyes. He can tell when Caleb is angry, because the flames are hotter and wilder, licking against his fingers and yet only burning those the wizard is targeting.

   Then there are the times when Caleb’s control wavers, whether through anger or fear, or the press of memories that not even Nott seemed to know about, and the flames changed… outwardly, and to the casual observer they would look like normal, maybe a little more wild than usual, leaping higher into the air and lashing against the hand that controls them. However, Mollymauk has never been just a casual observer, especially when it comes to Caleb and it at those times that he sees a darkness in the flames. It’s not a physical, tangible sight, but it’s there in the way they surge forward, hungry and devouring, ready to consume all in the path regardless of what it might cost their owner. It’s in the way they linger, reflected in haunted eyes and echoed in gasping breaths when Caleb comes back to himself, and written in the destruction they leave in their wake.

    He doesn’t recognise the flames around Caleb now, and it scares him. They’re wild, and as he scans the area around them he can see the blackened remains of the Gnolls they’d been fighting, a pang going through him, not at their loss, but at the burden their loss will put on Caleb’s shoulders. The human doesn’t hesitate to fight, to kill, when those he holds dear are in danger, but he takes each life lost and adds it to an already overburdened mantle and Molly has seen men and women, human and not, collapse under than kind of weight. Caleb is strong, far stronger than most people will ever have the chance to realise, but he’s broken in ways that even Molly is only just coming to understand and the Tiefling knows that any life might be the one that’s the final straw and he hates it and fears it in equal measure.

   These flames have killed, and yet they remain. Caleb has always managed to pull the flames back before, no matter how his mind has fractured, emotions consuming him. _I can’t let them loose,_ he had murmured once in the midst of a battle where they’d had no choice but to rely on his fire magic, refusing to set them wild even though it had made things harder for the group, and there had been a darkness in his eyes as he had taken the complaints and questions that had followed. So, for them to be running wild now… and they were wild, Molly traced the dancing flames, eyes narrowing as he took in the charred patches now appearing on the scruffy coat, the lines of amber and crimson traced over Caleb’s otherwise pale face and he swallowed thickly.

“Caleb…” _How do I bring you back from this?_

“He won’t even let Nott get close,” Beau murmured beside him, her grip loosening now that he no longer seemed willing to dive headfirst into the flames, and there’s a note of fear in her voice as she also glances at Caleb. Molly marks it, a lingering flippant part of his mind making a note to tell Caleb that he had managed to scare the monk at a later date, when the horror of today has faded, but for now he can’t help but echo her fear. Because as bad as things have got in the past, as often as he’s been pushed away and prevented from helping his partner, he can’t remember a single time when Caleb hadn’t responded to Nott. It’s been a source of jealousy more than once, to see how the bond between the pair can survive so much, whilst the one that he shares with Molly wavers and bends, never breaking, but fragile in a way that scares the Tiefling, because fragile things don’t survive for long in this world.

“Everyone else?” Molly found himself asking numbly, his gaze fixated once more on Caleb, mind racing as he tries to work out how to fix this…whatever, the hell this is, fingers curling into fists as the flames seem to dance higher under his scrutiny. _I won’t let you have him…_

“We’ve seen better days and Jester is wrung out,” Beau replied grimly and Molly grimaces and nods, somewhere in the back of his mind he had guessed as much, otherwise the Cleric would have been the one at his side when he woke, because he knew how bad his injuries had been…how bad they were, the sensation of the healing potion slowly fading away, and leaving behind a deep, burning ache that he knows will take time and more healing to disappear completely. _But we’re alive. We’re all alive,_ it’s releases a pressure he hadn’t been aware of and he closes his eyes for a moment and just focuses on breathing, because as long as they’re all alive, everything can be fixed.

“Good…”

“She’s not going to be able to do much for him.” _Or you,_ Beau’s voice is unusually soft, almost cautious and he opens his eyes and glances up at her, sees her looking across at Caleb and he follows her gaze.  He doesn’t care about himself. The potion has healed the worst of the damage, enough to let him survive and move, and time heals all wounds…. or so he’s heard, but Caleb… he remembers the fight, the injuries from before and he tenses, because he has no idea what happened between falling and now.  He has no idea what damage is hidden from sight, or what damage the flames are causing, and he growls a curse under his breath, all pretence at calm disappearing and he feels Beau flinching, realising a moment too late that the words had been in Infernal.

“Go,” he orders, taking a breath and making sure that the words are in common and this time when he makes to move away and rise she lets him, cautious as she watches him struggle to his feet, her fingers twitching as though she wants to help but doesn’t quite dare. He’ll have to apologise to her later, knowing all too well the damage that Infernal can cause, but he doesn’t have the words right now and he settles for softening his voice and tilting his head towards the entrance. “Make sure that we have a way out of here. I’ll…” He falters here, gaze flickering to Caleb and the dancing flames before he straightens, resolve seeping into his voice. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Molly…”

“He won’t burn me,” Molly cuts her off, seeing the fear still lingering in her face and he knows that he’s got it right when her mouth immediately snaps shut. _I hope,_ he adds in the safety of his own thoughts as he studies Caleb, because he doesn’t know these flames and he’s not sure what that says for the state of the wizard’s mind.

“I hope you’re right,” Beau has risen too, moving beside him as she unknowingly echoes his thoughts before she rummages in her bag. “Here you’ll need this.” It’s hard to drag his attention away from Caleb, but when he does it is to find a healing potion being offered to him and he only hesitates for a second before taking it, knowing that it must be one of their last if not the very last, fingers tightening around the bottle when Beau surrenders it. It isn’t enough, but it will have to do.

“Thank you.”

    Beau reaches for him, fingers lingering on his elbow for a minute. Its support and encouragement and a plea for him to be careful all in one, and somehow, he manages to summon up a strained smile and a nod. She releases him, glances once more at Caleb before heading for the entrance, carefully skirting the fire and for half a second the flames flared, reaching for her, only to be yanked back a scant inch from her. It gave Molly hope that Caleb was in there somewhere, because he knew that the flames didn’t care about who they consumed, so that hesitation had to have come from the wizard and that was enough to give him the courage to step towards Caleb, forgetting about Beau as he took a deep breath and tried to plan his approach. Flippancy wasn’t going to work here, and somehow, he doubted another shock, no matter gentle was a good idea right now.

“Caleb,” he murmurs, cautious in a way he’s never been around Caleb before. It’s not hard to realise why as he circled around until he was facing Caleb, faltering, breath catching in his throat as he finally got a good look at his partner. The lines of amber and crimson that he’d noticed before had spread across the pale features, trickling down his neck and down under his clothes, glowing faintly, as though the fire and the magic behind it were slowly consuming him and it takes everything he has to lock himself into place and fight the urge to run forward and grasp Caleb’s cheeks. Instead he forces himself to take another deep breath, focusing on the weight of the healing potion in his hand as he slips it away into his bag, before letting his gaze trail upwards until he meets the wizards faze and immediately wishes he hadn’t.

     The blankness is familiar, although no less terrifying because of that. However, it’s the grief buried beneath the blankness that gives him pause, because its raw and all-consuming, a show of emotion that no matter how muted is more than he’s ever seen from Caleb and it scares him. However, it also propels him forwards, aching to chase it away and bring life back to the blue eyes that are focused on a distant point that only Caleb can see, blind to Molly even though he’s stood right there.  “Caleb…” He steps forward again, and just as they had with Beau the flames dart forward and he barely stops himself from flinching back, trusting Caleb to stop them again. _Please…_ It’s hot, sweat beading on his skin as the flames surge towards him and he’s just starting to think that he was wrong, that Caleb was too far gone, when they came to an abrupt halt, close enough to singe the edges of his coat. They hover for a moment, as though indecisive before curling back towards Caleb, forming a thick barrier between the two of them, shielding the wizard from his approach.

    There’s a part of him that’s tempted to use Devil’s tongue to overcome the distance between them, but he hesitates and not just because he’d once promised Caleb that he would never use it against him. It’s more than that, something telling him that he needs to do this himself if he wants to bring Caleb back without losing the fractured pieces for good, and so he bites back the urge and instead forces himself to take a step forward.

“Caleb?” The flames flicker, clearly wanting to reach for him and held back by a tenuous will, but there’s still no sign that Caleb is even aware that he’s there and his eyes narrow, tail lashing at his ankles. He needs Caleb to hear him if they’re going to fix this, and his eyes dart to the entrance way, but whilst he can see movement beyond, the rest of their group seem content to leave this to him and he nods to himself before risking another step. “Home of my heart.” It’s clumsy and clunky on his tongue, the only Zemnian apart from the basics that he has learnt, chasing Caleb for weeks for the translation after he’d woken from an injury to hear Caleb murmuring the words over and over under his breath.

    There’s a moment, the words hanging in the silence between them and the flames begin to quiver, flickering and wavering as though caught in a breeze. “Home of my heart?” Molly repeats, the words coming easier this time, his voice soft and intimate, meant for Caleb alone and he moves forwards again, each step measured, only his tail betraying his fear as the flames try to lunge for him again. They’re stopped quicker this time, and when he looks at Caleb’s face again he realises that he lines are growing brighter than before, the air between them dancing with magic and he tenses as finally, slowly, Caleb blinks.

**

_Burn it all away…_

 The thought terrifies Caleb, too reminiscent of another time when his control had slipped, but back then he had fought to regain control, to douse the flames. Today, he doesn’t try to reign the fire in, having long since lost himself in the sensation of the fire scorching a path through his body.  _Burn it all away. Burn it all to ash. Burn it…_ The fire is banking higher, swirling through his body and rising to new heights now that he’s given it permission and he’s about to close his eyes, to let himself float away into the fiery embrace when he hears it. He’s not sure how, it’s barely a whisper of sound over the crackle of the flames and at first, he dismisses it, because the person he wants to hear, the one voice that could possibly stop the fire this time is gone.

_I lost him…_

    His grief fuels the flame and he’s lost again, the whisper little more than a distant memory as the fire consumes him. _Burn me…take me to Molly._ He’s slipping again, letting himself fall, willing the fire to guide him back to Molly’s side.

_“Home of my heart.”_

     The words come from a million miles away, borne to him over the sound of the flames and it hurts, the words burn in a way the flames don’t, because they make him remember. He remembers whispering them to Molly, over and over, a mantra against the wound that had nearly stolen the Tiefling away from him. He remembers lying in Molly’s arms late at night, still trembling from the nightmare that had chased him out of sleep, voice faltering as he finally gave into Molly’s demands to translate the words and teach them to him. He remembers, and he doesn’t want to, the flames faltering as his emotions swirl, pain and grief, and the bittersweet tinge of some of memories from the happiest time in his life tearing in different directions.

“No…” He’s not sure if he says it aloud, trying to force the memories back, to let the flames loose once more, because all that’s gone. Molly is gone and…

_“Home of my heart.”_ The words come again, softer this time as though they’re meant for his ears alone and his eyes sting, because it sounds so much like Molly that it hurts. The flames are flickering and faltering now, shifting and burning under his skin, the wildness draining from them and slowly and reluctantly he blinks.

   The world beyond the flames is a blur, his eyes raw from unshed tears and the flames dancing around him and he blinks again, rearing back when one of the blurs moves, stepping closer to him and he flinches, shaking his head.

“N-no…” The flames are calming now, exhaustion hitting him hard now that he’s no longer lost in the inferno but they’re still dangerous…he’s still dangerous and he can’t lose anyone else. _Oh gods,_ he chokes, shaking as a silent sob wracks his body, because now that he’s no longer adrift the icy realisation is gripping him tightly.

_Molly is gone…_

**

    Molly is fairly sure that he’s never heard anything quite as beautiful as that quiet, broken _‘no…’_ , because it’s a sign that Caleb is still there somewhere amongst the fractured pieces of himself, and it is so quintessentially Caleb to worry about hurting someone else when he himself is in agony that he wants to weep. He almost does anyway, because the whisper is barely out before Caleb’s expression crumples, anguish such as Molly has never seen sweeping over his features before the wizard is gripped by a sob that wracks his entire body.

He forgets about the flames, doesn’t care about the heat that lashes against him as he darts forwards, closing the distance between them and gripping Caleb’s face in his hands, mindful of the cut from earlier. Caleb’s skin is burning and for a moment the flames blaze brighter, lashing at the two of them and Molly tastes copper as he bites down to stop himself from crying out in alarm, instead gliding a thumb over one of the amber veins. “Home of my heart,” he murmurs, and this time the words are greeted by a hitch in Caleb’s breathing and another heavy blink as the flames flicker, and slowly began to dissipate as clouded eyes drift up to meet his. He’s not sure if Caleb is seeing him right now but he tries to paste something resembling a reassuring smile onto his face, beginning to move his thumb in circles against Caleb’s cheek. “Come back to me,” he pleads softly, hesitating for a second before leaning in and pressing his lips against Caleb’s forehead. _Please…._

    It takes a moment but there’s a soft sound, muffled by their position and when he pulls back Caleb is blinking again, more energetically than before and he feels a flicker of hope as for a moment the cloudiness seems to clear, blue meeting his eyes. He’s caught off guard when Caleb recoils, lurching back from his touch only to be brought up short by his already unbalanced body and it takes a desperate lunge from Molly to stop him from hitting the ground, the sudden movement drawing matching sounds of pain as it pulls on their wounds and Caleb stiffens at the noise, rigid in Molly’s hands as the Tiefling supports his weight for a second, recovering from the main before trying to mould them into a more comfortable position.

     Caleb doesn’t fight him, but he doesn’t help either and Molly is breathing hard, the pain that he had been ignoring in favour of focusing on Caleb now screaming at him, but his hands are gentle as he pulls the wizard back against himself. When he looks down its to find Caleb is staring at him, eyes wide, his entire body trembling as he reaches out to latch onto Molly’s tattered coat with shaking fingers, but the grief is still there and its not relief widening his eyes but fear.

“Why….?”

“Caleb?” Molly frowns, not quite sure what Caleb means and with the wizard so close to the edge he’s unwilling to risk making a mistake, but Caleb seems to have frozen again, trembling harder than ever and his voice drops as he tries to bring him back again. “Home of my…”

“Stop…” Caleb’s voice wavers and cracks in the middle, what had started as an almost angry retort sounding like a desperate plea and Molly freezes, because this is new, and he doesn’t know what his partner means. “Stop looking like him…stop sounding like him…” Molly blames the pain and exhaustion for his mind taking a moment too long to grasp what Caleb is saying, and what thoughts must be swirling around behind those frightened blue eyes, and suddenly the anguish from moments ago makes a terrible kind of sense. _Oh, Caleb…_

“Caleb.” Caleb isn’t the only one trembling now as he tilts the wizard so that he can see his expression, feeling the fingers tangled in his coat tightening, Caleb clinging to him even through his grief and disbelief and it hurts. “He…Sweetheart, no….” He catches himself, not sure if the usual endearment will be welcomed now, voice cracking as the realisation of what’s happened grips him. _He thinks I died…_ It puts everything under a new light, and he knows that his grip must be bruising as he pulls Caleb close, clinging to him, because that frightening brokenness that he had woken too was taking on a new meaning, as was the inferno, the flames that had been so different from the ones he knew.

_He looked like that because of me…_

    It’s heady and terrifying all at once. For someone who spent so much of his time with his nose in books, and rely on his words to escape confrontation, Caleb was wonderfully, infuriatingly bad at conveying himself verbally. Molly had learnt to work with it for the most part, learning to look for the untold things, the tiniest of movements, the little quirk of Caleb’s lips, the way his eyes would slide away. It had become another language of sorts. And whilst he knew that Caleb cared, could see it in the way the touch-averse wizard would practically curl around him, and in the fleeting sideways glances when he thought no one was looking; and the bigger moments like waking in his lap ‘Home of my heart’ being whispered in his ears, he sometimes wanted to hear the words, to know that they were on the same page in this story they were writing.

He would never wish for that again…

     Caleb had come apart at the seams, had lost himself in the magic that he was so cautious of using at the best of times, all because Molly had fallen, because he had thought that he had lost him. It’s heady. It’s terrifying and for a wild moment, all Molly wants to do is flee, because he’s not worthy of that kind of sacrifice, that kind of devotion. No one is…and yet he remembers how he fought for Caleb, how even when his body had been failing him he had wanted…needed… to respond to his partner’s pain, to protect him and he closes his eyes.

_We’re a pair of fools…_

    A noise that is almost a laugh escapes, and he bows his head, curling over Caleb and resting their foreheads together. “Caleb.” It’s a whisper, a prayer and a thank you all wrapped up in a single word, and he’s not sure that he will ever be able to say it like that again. “It’s me. It’s just me…” He deliberately echoes his words from earlier, ones that feel like they’re coming from a different lifetime, remembering how Caleb had reacted before. He doesn’t want to pull away. He wants to stay like this, to hold this stupid, wonderful man close and never let go, but he needs to see his face, his eyes, to see if his words have reached him and reluctantly he pulls back just enough to let himself see Caleb’s face, just as the wizard blinks, eyes darting across Molly’s face. “It’s just me, it’s just Molly…”

    There’s a flicker of something else in Caleb’s expression, longing…hope…but then it’s gone again, as Caleb shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut although it does nothing to stop the tears that finally break free. It’s a crack in the armour and Molly knows that he might not get another, and slowly, carefully he reaches for Caleb’s hands which are still clutching to the front of his coat, holding him close even as he clings to denial. A soft noise, a little too close to a whimper for his liking greets his touch, but Caleb doesn’t push him away and knowing it’s the only encouragement he’s going to get now, he gently grasps one trembling hand and coaxes it into releasing its death grip on the material. He squeezes the fingers once they’re finally free, before guiding them up to his face, Caleb’s gaze following the movement and there’s that flicker of longing again, stronger this time and taking a deep breath Molly presses the trembling fingers to his cheek. “I’m right here, Caleb.”

_Please…come back to me._

**

    The world is still a distant foggy concept, and Caleb’s not sure that he minds that right now, because there’s pain lurking just beneath the surface, emotions that he’s not ready to confront. But he can’t ignore the warm body that’s pressed up against his, holding him close, warm breath tickling his skin as there’s another gentle touch on his forehead. He knows the voice, better than he knows his own some days and gods he wants to reach and grasp the owner of that voice…to believe that he’s been granted a miracle. _Molly’s gone…_ But the world has never been kind to him and after everything he’s done, he doesn’t deserve a miracle and so he quashes the cruel spark of hope, the longing to just for once be proved wrong and he mourns. However, whoever is holding him is as relentless as they are gentle, their words and voice chipping away at his armour and slipping inside until all he can do is shake his head, feeling the dampness on his cheeks.

_Please. Don’t…_

    It doesn’t stop him from protesting when his fingers are oh so gently removed from the material he had been grasping hold of to keep himself anchored in this world, away from the flames. The warmth of fingers around his, replaces that anchor and he calms, not fighting as his hand is lifted, watching through blurry eyes… _lavender…._ He still doesn’t want to believe. Can’t let himself trust, because trusting someone, letting them in…it hurts too much. _‘I’m right here, Caleb.’_ He almost gasps aloud at the words, ones that he has heard so many times coming out of his memories or waking from a nightmare, whispered and murmured against his skin in the same gentle voice he’d just heard and it’s too much. It’s too cruel, and he goes to pull away just as his trembling fingers are guided against a warm cheek.

It’s solid.

It’s warm.

It’s real.

     He blinks, fingers curling against lavender skin. He waits for it to shimmer and fade away beneath his touch, or for it to turn to ash, but it remains, quivering lightly as his fingers pass over it. He still doesn’t want to let himself believe, but there are other colours under his fingers now and his breath catches as he slowly, carefully traces the edge of a familiar peacock pattern. _Molly…_ The urge to pull back is strong, but the need to maintain the contact is stronger and instead he slowly lifts his eyes, fear and longing, want and grief warring for control as this time when he blinks again he lets himself see. The crimson that meets his gaze holds a storm of emotions, too many for him to try and identify let alone put a name too, but even Caleb at his worst can’t miss the affection, and the fear that comes from love and he swallows, trying to get his voice to work and catch his breath.

“M-Molly…?”

**

    Molly nearly collapses with relief at the broken, wavering murmur of his name and he has to close his eyes for a second, overwhelmed. He can’t look away for long, and when he opens them again it’s to find Caleb staring at him, longing written openly over his face now and Molly’s lips curve into a smile, as he lifts his hand to the one resting on his cheek, trapping Caleb’s hand in place. “I’m here,” he replies, feeling the jolt that goes through the wizard. For half a moment he fears that Caleb is going to slip away again, knowing that they’re still very much on the precipice and he’s caught by surprise when instead Caleb moves forward, reaching for him as another heaving sob rocks his body.

    The embrace hurts. He’s healed enough to be going on with, but the pain lingers, and Caleb hadn’t been gentle in his lunge, now practically wrapped around him, clinging on with a desperation that takes his breath away. He bites his lip, refusing to make a sound or do anything that will make Caleb retreat again, not missing the soft whimper as the movement reminds the wizard of his own more pressing injuries, but knowing better than to try and push him away right now, even to try and heal him. Instead he wraps his arms around Caleb in turn, more mindful of his partner’s injuries, drawing him close and burying his lips in mussed reddish hair just as another sob wracks Caleb, and then another and another.

    Caleb is quiet despite the force of the sobs now shaking him, and as always Molly aches at the silence, knowing that it comes from a lifetime of being pushed away and abandoned. He wants to hear Caleb, he wants to know that he’s back here with him, but now is not the time to push and so he settles for pulling him closer, cautiously tightening his grip and gently rocking the wizard.

   It isn’t a short process. Caleb pouring out his grief, his fear, the anger that had left him wanting to burn the world away. Molly absorbs it all. At first, he’s quiet, needing the contact just as much, unable to shake the memory of seeing Caleb so broken, but after a while he starts to talk. It’s meaningless talk, silly tales mingled with gentle croons, but slowly and surely, he feels Caleb beginning to relax against him. He knows that the others are waiting for them, idly wonders if any of them are watching but unable to bring himself to care. He’s not rushing this, for both their sakes, closing his eyes, the words still falling as he buries himself in the scent of cinnamon and campfires that always lingers around Caleb.

_We’re alive…_

     It’s longer still before the sobs fade away, leaving Caleb limp and exhausted in his arms, face still buried in Molly’s shoulder, the damp patch all too telling. Molly is willing to wait as long as it takes, but finally Caleb shifts, lifting his face just enough to look at him with raw, red-rimmed eyes. His face is a mess, his eyes hectic with too many emotions, but he’s looking at Molly and seeing him, swallowing thickly before he manages to whisper. “I thought…I thought I’d lost you…” It’s not accusing, but it’s broken and vulnerable and that hurts more than angry words could have and Molly’s voice trembles as the apology slips out.

“I’m sorry…” Caleb immediately shakes his head, fingers finding their way back to the front of his coat, holding him close again.

“No… I…”

    Molly nods, understanding the words that Caleb quite find at the moment, lifting a finger to trembling lips. “It’s okay…”  Caleb doesn’t look convinced, but its clear that he’s flagging now, his head falling back against the Tiefling’s shoulder although his gaze never leaves Molly’s face, blinking slowly, before he frowns and there’s a flash of fear again.

“The others?”   

“Alive,” Molly murmurs, unsurprised when Caleb frowns at the answer. They’ve both learnt the hard way that ‘alive’ does not necessarily mean okay, and they’ve been through too much as a group to think that they’re only ones to come through this injured and he sighs before adding. “I think we’re all in need of healing and a good rest.” _You in particular,_ he wants to add, gaze flicking to the cut on Caleb’s cheek that has stopped bleeding but clearly needs a good clean, to the blood staining the tattered coat and the way his partner is favouring his side. Caleb relaxes a little at his words, trusting him without question, but there’s a different kind of tension in his shoulders as his eyes flicker towards the burnt rocks.

“Did I…hurt anyone?”

“No,” Molly is quick to reassure him, squeezing his fingers lightly and holding Caleb’s gaze, letting the wizard search his eyes and expression for any hint of an alarm. “You had more than enough control for that.” There’s no way that Molly is going to mention just how close it had been, and he makes a note to make sure that Beau doesn’t grumble about her charred clothing, because somehow, he doubts that Caleb will see it as just being clothes. Caleb slumps at that, the tension draining from him and Molly can feel the grip on his front loosening and as much as he hates himself for stopping Caleb from getting the rest he needs, he forces himself to nudge Caleb as he fumbles in his bag for the healing potion.

    Caleb rouses reluctantly, struggling to sit up, and it’s a sign that he’s not fully back with them just yet when he just stares blankly at the offered potion. Realising that Caleb isn’t going to reach for it himself, Molly carefully unstoppers it, before lifting it up with the intention of pouring it into Caleb’s mouth himself if that’s necessary. The glass has barely touched his partner’s lips before Caleb is jerking back, only a quick dodge saving the potion from ending up on the floor and his mouth is open to scold when he’s cut off by Caleb gently pushing his hand and the bottle back towards him.

“No. You need it more.” Caleb’s eyes flick downwards, tracing the blood still staining Molly’s arm and the torn material that marks the blow that had taken him down, shuddering as blankness begins to trickle back into his eyes.

“Caleb,” Molly calls urgently as he realises what is happening, shifting the bottle to one hand so that he can cusp Caleb’s cheek, stroking his skin to offer him a sensation to ground himself in. “Stay with me.” It’s a visible effort but Caleb blinks sluggishly, before nodding, a slight jerky movement to show that he’s still with Molly…for now at least, and Molly frowns, not happy but realising he’s not going to get a better response. “I’m fine, and you’re…” _A mess…._ They’re both a mess and not just physically, but that is a conversation for later when they’re safely miles away from this hellhole and their wounds have healed.

“You’re still hurt,” Caleb protests and Molly’s protest is cut short at the look his partner is giving him, and he curses under his breath, realising that he hadn’t been as subtle about his pain as he’d hoped. It doesn’t stop him from wanting to argue the point, but he recognises the set of Caleb’s jaw, even if it is ruined by the pale features and exhaustion written across his face. He’s no stranger to how stubborn Caleb can be about certain things, and whilst he has found certain methods to bringing his partner round to his point of view, it’s never worked when it comes to matters involving Molly’s wellbeing and he doubts that exhaustion will have changed that. He could argue the point…he should argue the point, because Caleb is wavering again, only sheer stubbornness keeping him awake and upright at this point. But he knows that he won’t get anywhere, and as selfish as it is, he can’t bring himself to do anything to put a chasm between them, no matter how brief it might be, still riding on the high and terror of knowing how much he means to Caleb and so he bows his head.

“I will take this.” The reluctance is clear in his voice, and he knows that Caleb has heard it when he tenses briefly, but it doesn’t stop the relieved expression from creeping across his partner’s voice and Molly immediately narrows his eyes at him, because he’s not going down without terms. “But you’re going to have a mouthful and you have to let me help you out of here.” At least that will help numb some of the pain that’s going to hit Caleb when he moves, although its not enough by far and it’s why he adds the latter, unsurprised when Caleb immediately bristles, hardening his expression and tone in response because this isn’t something he can back down on.  “That’s non-negotiable.” He can see Caleb trying to reach for some kind of argument and he lifts an eyebrow, staring him down, daring him to argue. _Please, let me help you…_

    A tense minute passes before the fight drains from Caleb and he gives a tiny nod, that’s just as reluctant as Molly’s agreement to take the potion and the Tiefling can’t help himself from grinning slightly. They really are a pair of idiots. Still, he doesn’t waste anytime in lifting the potion to his lips and gulping down most of it, not trusting Caleb not to try and find more arguments if he takes any longer and hates himself as he feels the potion getting to work a sigh of relief escaping as the cool numbness washes over him again. Still, he makes sure that there’s a large mouthful left, which he practically has to force into Caleb’s hand, because the wizard is watching him with concerned eyes, a protest forming. “Drink.”

    Caleb capitulates, which is telling and Molly sighs before slowly, reluctantly detangling himself, although he’s carefully to keep watch, making sure that Caleb drinks the rest of the potion. He’s still healing himself, but the pain is dulled by the potion and its enough as he straightens, making sure that his swords are in place, before holding out his hand as Caleb sets the bottle aside. Caleb’s movements are cautious as he reaches out to take it, but there’s also an urgency beneath it and Molly has a feeling that they’re both keen to put as many miles between this place and themselves as possible. He gently helps him up and steadies him when Caleb immediately wavers what little colour he’d managed to regain draining away. He’d already planned on doing it anyway when he’d wrangled the agreement from his partner, but when Caleb lists he’s immediately there, sweeping him up into his arms, making Caleb yelp in alarm, gripping him tightly.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you out of here,” Molly replies innocently. Too innocently, and Caleb’s mouth drops open before he tries to wiggle free, only to realise that it’s not a good idea and Molly is quick to tighten his grip, pulling him against his chest. Caleb falters, nearly giving in there and then before he scowls up at Molly.

“This is….”

“Non-negotiable,” Molly finishes for him, knowing that wasn’t what Caleb had been about to say and smirking at the irritated noise it earns him before turning solemn once more, cradling Caleb, and ducking his head to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “Let me do this…” _I couldn’t protect you earlier, so let me at least do this…_ His expression must be more open that he wanted because Caleb’s mouth drops open and he immediately subsides, fingers seeking out the front of Molly’s coat once more, twisting into the material as he lets his head come to rest over Molly’s heart.

“Ja…”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be a small epilogue to this....
> 
> Also, here's a sneak peek at my next fic (not in this series but Widomauk)
> 
> “I found them,” Nott’s voice is a low hiss, golden eyes glistening and for a moment she looks just as terrifying as most people consider Goblins to be. Molly isn’t afraid though, because he knows that her anger and hatred are aimed elsewhere, and a matching, feral grin crosses his features. “How much did that cost them?”
> 
> “Everything…”
> 
> “Not yet,” Molly’s voice darkens, and he can see Nott swallow nervously as he loses control, Infernal tinging the words and adding force to his promise. “But it will…”
> 
> ****  
> I'm @Akiko_Natsuko on Twitter and Akiko-Natsuko on tumblr if you want to shout with me about CR stuff.


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